


What the Future holds

by Darkangel3198



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Jon Snow is King-Beyond-the-Wall, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Past Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 08 Finale, R Plus L Equals J, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 05:09:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19288801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkangel3198/pseuds/Darkangel3198
Summary: Arya visits Jon, beyond the wall.





	What the Future holds

"This place is warmer than I thought," Arya said gripping the chicken leg that Tormund had offered.  
  
"It used to be colder here. Much colder." The big man was with her devouring his food."Jon said that the ending of the Long Night brought this sudden climate change."  
  
Arya nodded at Tormund and continued eating her food. She was in Rydercross, one of the three newly erupted settlements beyond the wall. Rydercross was named in honor of Mance Ryder, the former king beyond the wall. It was located on the banks of Antler River, with fertile farming lands and a big river nearby. It'd been three years since the war had ended. Arya then took off from Westeros in hopes of discovering 'what's west of Westeros.' Her so-called adventure had yielded no fruit as she found herself on the eastern part of Essos after a tiring journey. After that she sailed back to Westeros, hoping to reconnect with her family. She had met Bran and Sansa but didn't stay long with them.

She had learned Jon left the Night's watch and currently living among the freefolks. Not just that, the Wildlings had named him as the King beyond the Wall. Tormund had told her Jon didn't like it but again he had no say in that matter. He had split the survivors into three groups and made them settle in different places. He took upon himself to build the settlements. Rydercross was one of those settlements, acts as the capital for the Kingdom beyond the wall. Arya arrived at Rydercross a couple of days ago hoping to see Jon. Tormund was the only one who recognized her and greeted her warmly. She had learned Jon was at Wolfholde, another settlement near the Fist of the First men. Tormund immediately sent one of his men to fetch Jon.  
  
"How is he?" Arya asked the big man placing her bowl on the ground.  
  
"He is not sad if that's what you are worried about," Tormund said diplomatically.  
  
"So, he is unhappy?"  
  
The big man sighed, "He killed the woman he loved. I don't think anyone can be happy after that."  
  
Arya shut her mouth, didn't want to stir the history. She finished her dinner quietly and washed it down with a goat's milk. "I am going back to the house," Arya said to the big man standing up from the ground and dusting her breeches.  
  
A week later, she was at the banks, helping the men to catch fish when she spotted a party of a dozen figures atop their horses. Leading the crew was a four-legged creature with fur white as the snow. "Ghost," she whispered. She looked beyond the wolf and spotted him on the top of his horse. Tears formed in her eyes as she saw him nudging his horse to go forward. She cleaned her hand with the water and ran towards him hoping to meet him at halfway. It was Ghost who clashed into her first sending her to the ground and licking her face. Arya giggled as the big direwolf kept alternating between licking and howling at Jon to come faster. She managed to fend off Ghost's attacks, opened her eyes and saw him for the first time in three years, standing above her. He looked far better than the last time she had seen him. Without waiting for a second, she climbed and hugged him tightly.  
  
"I missed you," she cried, nuzzling her face on the crooks of his neck.  
  
He hugged even tighter. "And I you, little sister." They stayed like that for god knows how long. She was glad he was alive and doing well for himself. They went back to the house that she was residing in. Tormund brought them some food and ale and left them in peace.  
  
"Tell me about your adventures," Jon asked pouring a horn of ale for himself and one for Arya.  
  
"There are no adventures," Arya said in defeat. He raised his eyes in confusion. "There is nothing, Jon. We kept sailing for more than a year and discovered a land."  
  
"A land?"  
  
"Essos."  
  
"So Maester Luwin theory was correct. That earth was round." Arya smiled at the mention of Maester Luwin and nodded. They talked late into the evening.  
  
"How are they doing?" Jon questioned after she had mentioned her siblings.  
  
Arya sighed, "Dorne was demanding independence from the Kingdom and looks like they'll succeed. Sansa married Cley Cerwyn as soon as she was named as the Queen. Maester Wolken diagnosed that she is barren."  
  
Jon looked at her without any emotion in his face, "You know what that means, right?"  
  
Arya sighed and nodded. The legacy of House Stark lies in her hands. Sansa was adamant to make Arya marry. One of the reasons why she left Winterfell in the middle of the night. "Is that why you are here?" Jon asked knowing exactly what she was thinking.  
  
Arya nodded. "Also, I wanted to see you."  
  
He picked up the plates and stood up from his chair, "You are welcome to stay here as long as you want."  
  
The next few weeks went busy. Arya admired the way how Jon treated his people. He trained them in combat. Taught them to read and write common tongue. And Arya helped him in whatever way she can. Her old feelings were also resurfaced during that time as well. The feeling that she thought she buried. She had always loved her brother, not in a way sisters love their brothers. Jon was the only one who accepted for the way she was. Arya affection towards her brother turned into love over the struggles she went through the following years.  
  
Her love for Jon was what made her give up her maidenhead to Gendry, who reminded her so much of Jon. She had hoped that being with a man would suppress her love for Jon but it had an opposite effect. It was Jon's face she had imagined when she was with Gendry. She felt guilty to have such thoughts towards her brother. Perhaps one of the reasons why she felt happy when Bran told her that Jon was not their brother but Cousin. Even now, she kept her feelings inside. Jon still saw her as his little sister.  
  
"You didn't talk about Gendry," he asked casually one night. They were in his house. Jon was drawing some construction design on a parchment.  
  
"You knew?" she questioned.  
  
Jon chuckled, "Sandor told Tormund and Tormund told me."  
  
"I met him after you had left King's Landing. He was ready to relinquish his title as the Lord Of Stormlands to be with me."  
  
Jon dropped the charcoal that he was using on the desk and looked at her, "Then why didn't you accept him?"  
  
"He is not the man I love," Arya replied.  
  
"So, who is it?"  
  
"Who is what?"  
  
Jon chuckled at her, "Gendry isn't the one you love but someone is. Now, tell me who is it?"  
  
Arya started Jon in the eyes. He was looking at her as well. She raised her chin proudly and answered, "You!"Without waiting for a beat, she raised herself from the chair and left the house. Jon was an honorable man. She knows what his response would be and didn't have the courage to hear it from him.  
  
She was back in the house that Jon had allotted for her, packing her stuff to leave when she heard a knock on the door. She placed the needle on the table and went to the door. She unlocked the door and saw Jon was standing outside. They both stared at each other for a moment before his strong hands pulling her towards him. Arya didn't know what happened. The next moment their lips were connected. Heat rushed into her cheeks, and she responded to his kiss. In a heartbeat, the kiss turned rough. Teeth scraped skin, bit, nipped. Tongues invaded, clashed, plundered. Then her arms wrapped around the back of his neck and she whimpered. Jon pushed her into the house, closing the behind him. All the while his lips never left hers. He ducked down, brushed his lips down the curve of her cheek, ran the tip of his tongue over the whorl of her ear. The cloaks were discarded and sent flying.  
  
The floodgates flew open as she melted in his arms. She was discovering him all over again, just as he was discovering her. Little things like his scent and the way his beard rubbed against her cheek sent dangerous emotions slithering in between her ribs, aiming straight for her heart.  
  
His hands were gentle as they cupped her face and she instinctively tilted her face up as his mouth moved from her lips to the concave place between her chin and shoulder bones. Her limbs felt heavy, drugged with his kisses. Her skin buzzed and her nipples were stiff and tight behind her tunic as he nipped at her jaw.  
  
And then his fingers moved to untie the knots on her breeches. She shifted her hips slightly to give him better access, to help him strip her down.  
  
He pulled the tunic slowly up her body, over her aching breasts. When it was on the floor, she pressed herself against him. The muscles on his beautiful naked chest were tight and corded, the perfect foil to her curves.  
  
“Jon,” she whispered, only realizing she'd spoken when she heard the words in the room.  
  
He looked down at her as he ran his thumb over the swell of her breasts. “She-wolf,” he said, bending his head down to lick the crevasse where her breastbone was, “My beautiful she-wolf”  
  
Her breath caught at his words, his sweet caresses. No man had ever touched her like this. Like he wanted her more than he wanted to breathe. No one but Jon.  
  
"I love you," she moaned when his mouth hot and wet, came down over her breasts and his hands played against the sensitive skin at the small of her back. She instinctively arched into his mouth.  
  
Goosebumps covered her skin as he softly raked his teeth over her hard nipple. Jon's fingers were warm and steady on her shoulders. The heat in his eyes intensified as he stared at her naked breasts, and she was powerless to do anything but stand there and let him look his fill. Reverently, he cupped her flesh with both hands and rubbed his thumbs over her nipples.  
  
She closed her eyes and a low moan emerged from her throat. Moment by moment, touch by touch, he was making her realize she was meant for him.  
  
She grabbed at his hips to pull him in closer—Gods, she wanted him closer—to her wetness. Her hips bucked into his thick shaft and he held himself still as she rocked and rubbed and pushed against him, desperate for release.  
  
“That's it,” he said, encouraging her madness. He bent his head back down to her chest, pressing her breasts close together so that he could take both stiff peaks into his mouth at the same time.  
  
“You taste so good. So sweet. Little sister.” He lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the makeshift bed, nipping at her lips, tasting the sensitive crevasses of her mouth with his tongue.  
  
Her sex clenched at the thought of being naked beneath Jon. She shivered as he flicked the tip of his tongue against the corner of her mouth and smiled against her lips.  
  
“Do you like that?”  
  
She was hesitant to look into his eyes, frightened to give too much of herself away if he saw how much this meant to her. At last, she found her voice.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
He captured her mouth again, harder this time, his lips and teeth and tongue telling her just how much he desired her. He pulled back, his black eyes dark with passion.  
  
“And that?”  
  
She reached a hand up to his mouth and let her thumb and fingertips graze his full, masculine lips. “Yes. So much."More than he knew.  
  
He sucked her index finger in between his lips and she closed her eyes and relaxed into his strong, muscular arms, drunk from his tongue on her skin. She'd never known fingers could be so sensitive; never knew that a simple act such as this brings so much pleasure.  
  
He pressed a kiss onto her palm. “Tell me everything you like. Tell me everything that makes you feel good.”  
  
She stroked his chin, his stubble deliciously rough. “I don't need to. You already know.”  
  
A low growl vibrated in his throat and she watched, mesmerized, as his Adam's apple moved in his throat. She ran her hand down to his neck, then past his collarbone and over his tight band of chest muscles and the angry red scars. His heartbeat was strong and fast as he continued holding her without strain, allowing her to explore his body at her leisure.  
  
His nipple grew hard as she leaned closer and pressed a kiss into his shoulder. His skin jumped beneath her lips and, for the first time, she realized just how badly he wanted her; that he was barely holding on to his own self-control.  
  
She swept her tongue out along his collarbone and tasted a faint sheen of clean sweat on his skin. His erection swelled against the side of her hip and his passionate reaction emboldened her further. She grazed a stiff tendon with her teeth, loving the taste of him, his scent. He was just as beautiful beneath her lips as he was to her eyes.  
  
He carried her across the room, laying her beneath him on her bed. “I've wanted to do this for so long.” He bent his head down to one breast and suckled her. “And this,” he said as he laved the other. "Since the day I saw on the banks."  
  
She gasped with pleasure and arched into his mouth. Back and forth, he swirled his tongue on her breasts, kissing her flesh, softly nipping her sensitive skin. Every move he made aroused her, made her grow increasingly damp and desperate to feel the hot, hard length of him pressing into her sex.  
  
“Please,” she said, and a moment later his hands were on her breeches and he was undoing the ties and pulling them down her thighs.  
  
“So beautiful,” he said in a low voice as he slid her breaches to the floor. “So damn beautiful.”  
  
She waited with delirious anticipation to feel his fingers—or possibly, if she was really lucky, his erection— between her legs and was utterly unprepared for warm breath on her heated skin. Her hips bucked into his mouth of their own volition, as utterly out of control as she'd ever been. Gendry didn't know any of it.  
  
She was frightened by this intimacy, yet she craved it too badly to possibly make him stop.  
  
His touch was turning her inside out, but right now, right at this moment, losing control felt right. Because she felt safe with Jon. He pressed a kiss to her stomach, just below her belly button, and she sucked in a breath, waiting. “I can't wait another moment to taste you,” he whispered and buried his face into her cunt.

She cried out his name as she moved against his lips, his teeth. She should have been prepared for the slide of his tongue on her clitoris, for the muscles at the base of her stomach to clench and pull, but she wasn't. Nothing could have prepared her for Jon.  
  
Slow warmth moved through her as his tongue slipped and slid over her heated flesh. He cupped her butt cheeks to shift her mound higher, closer to his mouth. She wanted to watch this beautiful man touch her so intimately, but her eyes closed as she arched her neck, her body straining toward him. Alternately he sucked at her clit, pulling and dragging on her arousal, then swept his tongue down the slick length of her.  
  
Her muscles clenched with need. She wanted all of him, wanted to be filled with his huge, hard cock. She opened her mouth to beg, to plead, but before she could utter a word, he slipped one thick finger inside of her.  
  
Her breath stopped as she clamped around his finger. With painstaking slowness, he slid it into the knuckle. She pushed against his hand, trying to take more of him inside. All the while, his tongue kept a steady beat on her clit. He added another finger to his sensual onslaught, and she rode his fingers, pressed into his tongue. But instead of letting her crest the peak, he forced her to ride the ridge of pleasure, backing off when she got too close. He slid his fingers in, then out of her slick passage. Higher and higher she flew, her muscles tightening one by one until she thought she might shatter.  
  
“Please, Jon,” she finally begged, even though she was a woman who'd never begged anyone for anything, ever.  
  
He grasped a thigh in each hand and dragged her legs wider. Just the simple act of repositioning her and the feel of his hair brushing against her belly was enough to send her crashing over the edge. He thrust his tongue inside her and her muscles clenched and convulsed around him.  
  
And then he was focusing every ounce of his attention on her. Licking. Sucking. Pulling at her until she wanted to scream with joy.  
  
She'd never known it was possible to feel like this like she was dying and coming to life all at the same time. He didn't stop licking her until her final tremor. She'd never known orgasms could be all-consuming, had never been limp and shattered afterward.  
  
At last, she collapsed back onto the bed, gasping for air. Jon shifted his weight from between her legs and brought his mouth back to her breasts, tenderly nuzzling the undersides. She ached to feel his entire weight over her, and now that she'd found her breath again, all she wanted was to feel him sliding into her heat.  
  
He lifted his head, a half smile on his beautiful lips. Lips that had brought her pleasure she'd never imagined possible. She shifted, and her foot grazed something hot and smooth. He immediately went stiff beneath her and, suddenly, she wanted him to know the torture of being teased—of being made to wait for something that was long past due.  
  
She flexed her ankle and arched her foot, then pointed it and slid her toes slowly down his long length. Two could play the same game of anticipation and boundless desire. Jon was levered above her on his forearms, his biceps and triceps shaking beneath her fingertips. And then the thick head of his erection was pressing into her heat. The words “You win” came from his mouth a moment before he imprisoned her lips beneath his.  
  
She bucked her hips into his hard heat and allowed the head of his cock to slide into her, to stretch her wide, far wider than Gendry before him. His eyes were black with desire as he pushed inside another inch, and then another.  
  
Her muscles gripped him tightly to pull him in farther. All the way in. He sheathed himself without her help—Lord knew her trembling hands would have been no use at all—and repositioned himself between her legs. He cupped her face and kissed her long and sweet.  
  
She slid her hands against the great wall of his chest, then over his rib cage to hold on to him. She shuddered as her forbidden dreams of making love to Jon from so many years ago came true.  
  
“You're mine, Little sister.”  
  
Arya sucked in a quick breath, as he wound his hands through her hair, holding her head to his as he thrust with controlled strokes. Her muscles adjusted to his size, nerves tingling with lust and desire after the initial pinch wore off.  
  
“Jon, you feel…” she struggled for words, pulling his lips against her and working her hips more frantically.  
  
“Tell me, little sister, tell me how I feel inside you,” he mumbled, his thrusts speeding up.  
  
“Full, I feel so full.” she grasped his biceps, desperate to feel more. “It’s overwhelming.”  
  
His passionate words rocked her to the core, and she opened wide for him, moisture flooding her canal to ease his passage. Over and over again, he thrust his hard, thick length into her. His heavyweight pressed her into the bed, and his skin grew slick beneath her hands. Sweat beaded between her breasts and he lowered his head to lick it from her skin without missing a beat, the steady propulsion of his hips forcing her back up to what should have been an unattainable peak.  
  
“God, you feel better than I could have imagined. So tight.”He gasped as he thrust.“So silky.”He thrust again, his thumb swirling at her clit.“So fucking tight.”Serrated groans shredded her lips as another orgasm tore through her. A cry of ecstasy tore from her throat and merged with his growl of pleasure as spasms wracked her body, starting from her heated core and working their way out to her skin, to the tips of her toes and fingernails and each hair on her head. She rode the length of his shaft again and again, her orgasm violating her completely. His thrusts sped up, his face tightening as his own peak loomed.  
  
“You have no idea how much I love you, little sister.” His peak tore through her body as he held her close, his thighs rigid and quaking as he emptied himself into her. Her muscles relaxed, and her breathing slowed as their bodies melded together in an overwhelming moment of raw emotion.  
  
He pulled out of her, the slow drag of his cock rubbing every deliciously raw nerve I had. He curled her into his chest. Arya didn't know how long they lay together afterward, his wonderfully heavy weight pressing into her. After making love three more times, they slept.

* * *

  
  
The next day, she found Jon on the cliff overlooking Rydercross. Ghost was with him. She walked towards him and rested her head on his chest. "What do you see there?" he asked after a few minutes, pointing at the settlement below them.  
  
"I see a future," she replied directly after thinking about it for a few moments. "I see the people who look up to their king to lead them into that told future."  
  
"I know better than most that a wolf shouldn't be caged," he said and looked at her. "But a King needs his Queen." An uncomfortable silence loomed over them. Jon looked at her longingly as Arya walked over to the edge of the cliff and looked at the settlement below them.  
  
"We have a lot of work ahead of us," she said looking at Rydercross. "We should expand the farming lands and need a port to trade goods. Also, we need to build a lot of canals."  
  
"As you command, your grace."

  

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Comments are most welcome.


End file.
